In 1995, Ike Nnaebue, a 20-year-old Nigerian youth, embarked on a trans-West African road trip. His aim was to journey to Europe through the ‘back door’ – the slang term for illegal migration. Nnaebue never completed that trip; upon confronting the dangers of crossing the Saharan desert and the Mediterranean Sea at the risk of death, he opted instead to return to Nigeria.
Harrowing ordeals are not so easily forgotten, so twenty-seven years later, Nnaebue, no longer a desperate migrant, but now a celebrated filmmaker, would retrace his earlier expedition, an event captured in the award-winning 2022 documentary No U-Turn.
Fictional, but drawing heavily from real migrant experiences, Ndidi Chiazor-Enenmor’s novel See Morocco See Spain treads similar ground, asking the same questions Nnaebue poses in his film: What motivates Africans to jeopardize themselves in their quest to migrate to Europe?

The book opens in Benin City, where readers are introduced to Nosakhare, a young man whose medical school ambitions are thwarted by financial constraints. Seeking to improve his lot in life, he refocuses his efforts on getting to Europe by any means necessary. As soon as he can raise the appropriate funds, he pays an agent to be transported to Morocco by bus.
From there, he reasons, he will cross over to Spain by boat. En-route, we meet his co-travellers, a band of seven other young Nigerians from disparate backgrounds. Although they share the same purpose and are bonded together by circumstance, each adventurer is clearly on their own solo mission. One after the other, we are treated to their background stories. There is Chibuike, a former ‘nwa boy’ who was cheated out of his settlement; Ezenwa, a fugitive from vigilante justice; Engine, not so much fleeing, but pursuing a course of vengeance; Hannatu, a well-off banker with multiple failed visa applications; Osato, honouring an invitation from an uncle; Ebube, a single parent itching for reinvention, and Uyiosa, manipulated into prostitution by an abusive mother.
As the story unfolds, Chiazor-Enenmor dispenses with the multi-perspective approach, and Nosakhere emerges as the main protagonist of this tale. Unfortunately, even after overcoming multiple hardships and setbacks to reach his destination, a happily-ever-after ending remains elusive as his problems continue to compound. Presented with limited options and with very little time to philosophize over them, he blunders his way through decisions that take him further away from ever integrating into respectable European society, and deeper into its underclass.
The author’s decision to set the novel in the early aughts when access to the internet and mobile devices was restricted to the privileged heightens Nosakhare’s precarity, and with little recourse to verifiable information, he is especially vulnerable. Still, there are times when his naivete stretches credulity and his ensuing wounds appear self-inflicted. Some of his missteps, evidently designed to demonstrate the struggles peculiar to illegal migrants, test the reader’s patience to the extent that empathy combusts into frustration.
Nevertheless, what appears to be a target buck to critics on the lookout for faults is, in effect, a red herring; the fact that the reader’s investment never dissolves into apathy is, in actuality, an indication of the author’s masterful craftsmanship.

Excellent at handling contrasts, the author blends meticulous research with entertaining storytelling, tempers the horrors of human trafficking with occasional injections of humour, and deftly orchestrates a heart wrenching plot with page-turning momentum.
Ndidi Chiazor-Enenmor might be better known for her brilliant contributions to children’s literature, but with this book, she demonstrates that she possesses the writing chops to hold an adult audience captive, and it is easy to see why the Association of Nigerian Authors awarded it the 2025 ANA/Chinua Achebe Prize for Literature.
There is an undercurrent of urgency steering this narrative. Illegal migration has contributed to diplomatic challenges between several African nations and the European Union. An estimated 251, 336 West and Central Africans were recorded in a census of irregular arrivals to Europe between 2017 and 2023, with Nigerians accounting for 10.11 percent of this number.
Books like See Morocco See Spain remind us of the humanity of the individuals typically reduced to statistics, and provide invaluable insight into a cross-sectional human rights issue. On one hand, it can be read as a testament to the resilience of those who have undertaken these perilous journeys, and on the other, especially for those contemplating such an excursion, a cautionary tale worth heeding.
***Akumbu Uche is a writer and storyteller from Nigeria. Her works have been published by thelagosreview.ng, Aké Review, Brittle Paper, Canthius, The Cincinnati Review, and elsewhere.




